


A court of spirits and shadows

by 5aria



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Rhys sister is alive, and she is Azriel's mate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5aria/pseuds/5aria
Summary: The town people often whispered of a myth, a girl who blended into the shadows and killed for a living. The myth was a little more complicated than that.Rae was sister to the high lord of the night court, one of the most powerful high lords. She should have been dead; she was a ghost walking amongst the living.She thought she could run from her past but even an immortal could not run forever.--In which Rhysand's sister is spared by Tamlin but she flees to the mortal lands where she stays with no plans on going back. Her plan of disappearing  goes wrong when the spymaster from the night court shows up with a task for her to help him save the cursed mortal queen, Vassa.
Relationships: Azriel (ACoTaR)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	A court of spirits and shadows

**Author's Note:**

> TW: small mention of rape at the beginning

**Centuries ago in Illyria...**

Her hands shook as the cold air slammed into her face. The blonde male in front of her pulled on her arm hard. He showed no sign of the cold. In fact his whole face was set like stone, his jaw tense and only his eyes that shifted wildly around the surroundings showed any sign of distress.

The male’s coat laid across her shoulders, the sleeves were knotted against her throat. The coat gave her some semblance of dignity as it covered her bare chest but everytime the girl took a breath she winced at the pain in her shoulder blades.

She could still feel the blood on her back. Some of it had dried in the moment that had passed since the two males had ripped off her wings and when the male in front of her had hauled her out of her house. Once the other male had left, the blonde had stared at Raven for the longest time.

Raven had been frozen. It had been a curious thing. All of her life Raven had been a lively child. Her father, the high lord of the night court, ignored her for this very reason; he was always too busy, too sophisticated to have to put up with a child’s whims. But her mother- an Illyrian warrior- had always been kind and patient with her. Her brother had been a little less patient but attentive to her anyways; Rhys and his friends never failed to entertain her and they were not sophisticated enough to ignore her.

The male in front of her must have been around Rhys’s age or maybe a little younger. He had introduced himself as a friend of Rhys’s. That was why her mother had let him and his father in. That was why her mother had let her guard fall so down.

Raven shivered though it had nothing to do with the cold.

The male cast her a spare glance, his brows furrowed as his eyes stayed wild with panic. He looked so thrown, so lost as to what to do next that it almost made Raven feel remorse for him. Then she remembered his arms holding her back, his grip as harsh as it was now, and how he had just stood there and _winced_ while her mother screamed in the other room. 

She remembered how the male had done nothing as his father shoved Raven into the wall and made her see stars. Her vision had gone blurry and through her distorted sight she had watched as the blonde male held her mother down and his father ripped her wings off. Brute, animal strength. That was all it took for the man to rip off her mother's wings with his bare hands. Then, they did the same to her. Her mother had bled as she crawled to Raven but the blonde had smacked her back. Again and again. 

Raven had blacked out from the pain. She remembered drifting into unconsciousness as warm blood poured out her shoulder blades and her mother shrieked. When she woke up the males father was gone, her back ached, and everything was quiet.

She met his green eyes first. They became two animals circling each other, waiting to attack. Except they didn’t move. Not even their chests moved, their Fae ability allowing them to stay unnaturally still. Then Raven shifted her eyes and saw her mother. She broke the silence with the sob that crawled up her throat. Bile rose with it and she managed to push up with her hands as she vomited. Then, the male was putting the coat on her back and tying it around her throat. He hauled her up roughly, and never said a word. She thought he was going to kill her. She still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t going to kill her.

She had tried to go to her mother one last time, to reach out and touch her broken body but the male hadn’t let her.

They neared the outskirts of her family’s property and Raven realized she had to act then. If they crossed the line she might be able to winnow away. She had never done it before, had only ever sided along with her mother or Rhys, but she had to try. It was her last chance. She wasn’t sure why the male hadn’t killed her in the house or why he had bothered to drag her outside but she knew that she had a slim chance to get away. She had to do this, for her mother lying dead in the cabin and for her brother who was still alive.

She had very minimal training. Her father had never wanted her fighting. He claimed it was savage and unbecoming but it was part of Raven’s blood. Her skin itched to fight just like it itched to fly- but she never would again, would she? Her mother had taught her how to fight but in that moment she couldn’t bear to think of her mother- only her lifeless eyes came to mind. 

She heard her brother’s friend's voice drift into her mind. It wasn’t Cassian who was loud and always grinning, like he had some secret to tell, but Azriel who had always unnerved Raven with his quiet lethal presence. 

“If someone ever grabs you Raven,” he had told her, “you swing your elbow to the side and then down. That’s going to break the grip.”

He had come close to her and demonstrated. First he grabbed her wrist by the outside, sending a dozen shocks down her arm. “Elbow in. And then down,” he instructed, before grabbing her from the inside of her wrist. “Twist your hand and then swipe down.”

She had down so, missing the warmth of his hand afterward. Her breath had caught as she looked up at him and her purple eyes met his amber ones. “And then what?” she had asked. It was another curious moment where she felt she couldn’t move. Her eyes were stuck to Azriel’s as she felt the world pulled away from her.

“You kick him in the balls,” Cassian proclaimed. The world steadied under her again and Raven had turned to see Cassian grinning, seconds away from kicking her brother in the groin. Rhysand had shifted at the last second, narrowly avoiding the blow. Then, the two were brawling and as they yelled out cursed, Raven found it hard to decide if they had been playing or actually fighting. It wasn’t until Azriel had chuckled from beside her, the low sound of his voice settling oddly in her stomach, that she realized they had been joking.

She tried then to break out of the males grip. It wasn’t as easy as it had been with Azriel but she put all her strength into it and the male wasn’t expecting her to fight back-she had been submissive so far, after all. His shock was all she needed for her to pull out of his grasp. Then, she listened to Cassian. At the time, his advice had seemed crude but in that moment Raven thanked the cauldron for both Azriel and _Cassian_. She aimed at the males groin, her back screaming in protest, and didn’t bother to watch as he fell back. 

She ran across the property line and she thought she heard him yell. She took a chance and turned back. He was up on his feet again, his long blonde hair shifted out of his face by his hand. His eyes didn’t look defeated. Raven thought they looked relieved, almost happy. He didn’t move and for a moment neither did Raven. They were two animals once again, stuck in a limbo waiting for the other to strike. Raven made sure to look him straight in the eyes. She hurt all over but a part of her was glad she did it. She hoped her eyes convinced what she was thinking: she wouldn’t strike this time but she would be back. She would find some way to make him suffer.

She turned around and winnowed away.

**Present**

Raven went by Rae. It wasn’t the most clever alias but it allowed her to go to sleep at night, knowing that a small part of who she used to be was still alive in her. She had managed to winnow into the mortal land all those years ago. She still wasn’t sure if she had done it on accident or if even in that moment she had known that she was going to run away. 

She hadn’t wanted to at first. When she left, she had wanted to find Rhys. She had hoped desperately that she would winnow to where he was but she had come up in the mortal lands. A mercenary had found her. The years had stripped down the memory of that woman. All that remained was her name- Josslyn- her quick wit and rough hands. She had been a wretched woman with little to no moral code. But thankfully for Rae the code drew the line at bleeding, half-naked sixteen year old who appeared out of nowhere.

Josslyn had taken her in, not as a child or as a ward-and that was fine because no one would ever replace Rae’s mother- but as an apprentice. Together, they built a keep for assassins. At first, Rae stayed because she told herself the training would help her when she met the blonde male again. Those first fifty years it was all that kept her afloat. Her fear had hardened into rage and the nightmares of that night would wake her up with an eagerness for blood and revenge. She told herself she would find him and that she would make him pay for what he did, both him and his father.

When Josslyn died Raven stayed. She told herself it was to help with the transition, to help preserve the legacy that Josslyn had left, but then the years kept passing and her rage wilted away. It became guilt and shame at what had happened and what she had done. She would never forgive herself for leaving and letting her brother believe she was dead and she couldn’t face him. Every time her back ached she would feel shame as she remembered her wings. She would never fly again, never be whole in the way her mother had fought for her to be, and it became a block that stopped her from ever wanting to go back.

She had only ever wanted to go back twice in the years that had followed.

The first time had been more of an inclination. She had found out that her father had died and a small part of her had thought, maybe she should go back. But in the end her cowardice won out and she stayed away.

The second time had been desperation. It was when she had heard about Amarantha and what she had done to the Fae. At first she had wanted to go to check on her brother. She had gotten this feeling that he needed her help or that she should be with him in that moment. Then, she had heard more of what happened. Every time she heard the words Amarantha’s whore whispered like a cruelty it was another strike against her. She had wanted to go back. She wasn’t even sure what she should have done. The other mercenaries refused to let her go though.

One of the closest ones to her, Madelyn, had remained stuck to her side just in case she did try to leave. She had left the Fae lands recently, a refuge from the spring court, and had been there recently enough to know what Amarantha was capable of.

“Rushing in there will do no one any good,” she said, “Rae. it will do no good at all. Why do you even want to go?”

And Rae had been drinking, drawing her guilt in the bottle, so she had told her everything. 

The whole Amarantha situation had been long resolved and so had the Hybern situation. Rae’s desperation to go back faded and her usual guilt and shame had appeared once more. She was ready to go back to pretending but Madelyn knew and she wouldn’t let Rae forget.

The other female always talked about how Rae should go back, to the extent that Rae wondered why she was so concerned about her. Was there nothing left for Madelyn in the fae lands or was she running just like Rae? Either way, she didn’t ask. Rae had learned how to survive a long time ago.

The lively girl was gone and had been replaced with a ruthless killer. She didn’t volunteer any information and never asked for any in return. Where she was small, she learned to be quick and agile to one-up her opponents. Where she was haunted by her past, she learned to shove her feelings deep down and put on a mask. Where she had once trusted and been betrayed; she learned to never let her guard down.

She took on Josslyn’s gray moral code. The mortals in town feared her. 

The town people often whispered of a myth, a girl who blended into the shadows and killed for a living. The myth was a little more complicated than that.

Rae was sister to the high lord of the night court, one of the most powerful high lords. She should have been dead; she was a spirit walking amongst the living. 

She thought she could run from her past but even an immortal could not run forever.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
